


File It Somewhere, At Least

by givesmevoice



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25841224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givesmevoice/pseuds/givesmevoice
Summary: Where much shorter pieces of mostly MSR will live.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 14





	File It Somewhere, At Least

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment in time that Scully and Mulder deserved to have, with each other, with their unborn baby, between "DeadAlive" and "Empedocles."

He had been among the stars and six feet under. Brought back from death, from underground, by his brilliant partner, the love of his life. She had been by his bedside, as though she could never be anywhere else. As he felt more dead than alive he saw about her a lush and gravid fullness - much more alive than dead. 

But she was his Persephone. He had pulled her into the Underworld with him, his quest had brought them perilously close to death when what he had wanted was to find truth in life. But his Persephone, she emerged from their Underworld full of new life, bringing forth their spring. And she pulled him with her, angering the gods, upsetting the order of life and the planets. Maybe he was not Hades, stealing her from the living and her loved ones; she abducted him from the world of the dead and gone. In the final twist that the myth deserved, Persephone brought the spring while saving herself and her true love. 

They sat side-by-side on his couch, his apartment silent save for the quiet hum of his filter. He didn’t know how to address her. How to adequately thank her for reaching down and pulling him out of his grave. For standing at his graveside, draped in widow’s weeds. He didn’t know how to thank her for her impossible hope, and what seemed like an impossible miracle between them. 

She eyed him curiously, intensely. Her bright eyes still tried to untangle the knotty puzzle of his thoughts. 

“If you don’t need anything, Mulder…” She made to stand up. “I can get going.” She stood, rested her hand on his shoulder. The roundness of her was still so new and so close. He wanted to touch her everywhere, feel the spring within her, thank her for bringing him a blossom he didn’t deserve. He brought his hand to cover hers on his shoulder. 

“Please stay, Scully.” He wanted to beg her, ask her to never leave. “There’s still so much I don’t understand. I’ve missed so much.” He looked at her belly, the fullness of life, back up at her eyes, brimming with unshed tears. (Nourishing tears. Cyane’s tears when she failed to protect Proserpina.) “Scully. You saved me again. Your dogged search for the truth and for me saved my hide again. What do I need to do?”

She returned to her seat next to him, her tears now streaming down her face. She brought their hands, still joined on his shoulder, down to her lap. Looking up at him, she brought them to her belly, laid his palm flat against her sweater, over her ever-growing swell. Her hand on top of his, she looked up, smiling. 

He smiled back, felt as though nothing in the world mattered, that nothing would ever matter, that nothing in his sorry-ass life had led him to deserve this moment with her. For long minutes they sat, breathing together, feeling more alive than they had ever been before, the existence of how alive they were between them, under their hands. 

“Mulder,” she murmured, smiling at his gasp of breath as he felt a foot slide under her skin. “I think...the first thing we need to do, for all of our sakes,” she drummed her finger against her belly, making sure to emphasize who constituted  _ all _ of them, “is go to the Social Security Administration to find out how to prove you're not dead anymore.” 

He laughed, wondering if it was possible to quantify the lightness inside him now, if he could use “unmitigated happiness” as proof of life. (He could, just not on forms the Social Security Administration uses.)

**Author's Note:**

> This actually sprung from my desire to see an episode where Mulder has to go to every single government agency and prove that he's not dead anymore. But I wanted Darin Morgan or Vince Gilligan to write it, and since I'm not that funny and the tedium of going to every single government agency is probably a thousand times less funny when there's no visuals to go along with it, this is what happened. 
> 
> (I also have a complicated relationship with the myth of Persephone. I like the idea of her saving herself from the Underworld.)


End file.
